


Toughest Men in Letterkenny

by Cantabo



Category: Letterkenny (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protective Darry, descriptions of a mild head injury but nothing too gory, hurt wayne
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:35:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24901675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cantabo/pseuds/Cantabo
Summary: Daryl is 10 ply until someone fucks with Wayne.
Relationships: Daryl/Wayne (Letterkenny)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 247





	Toughest Men in Letterkenny

Wayne has never looked small to Daryl. He’s always been larger than life in Daryl’s mind and memories. It’s been this way from the moment they met and Daryl had to turn his head up slightly to look Wayne in the eyes, likely. Wayne has always been viewed as a larger-than-life kind of person by Daryl.

But seeing Wayne lying still on a hospital bed in a white gown makes him look less like the unyielding figure that Wayne is when he’s awake and more like the young man he actually is. He can’t posture or sit with his back straight like he prefers to, and it unnerves Daryl more than he thought it would.

Daryl wipes his eyes with his hands, then winces when he realizes his knuckles are still bleeding profusely and that he’s wiped blood all over his cheek. Katy told him on the car ride over that he was in shock, and numbly Daryl had agreed with her. He likely still was, standing in the emergency room, slowly blinking as his hand dripped blood onto the floor.

Dan looks at Darry and frowns, then walks out of the room. Daryl stares at the spot Squirrelly Dan stood in, numbly wondering where he’s wandered off to. Katy guides him gently into the seat on Wayne’s left side, and Daryl thinks she did it on purpose so he wouldn’t have to look at the stapled-up gash on the other side of Wayne’s head. 

She pulls a chair over and sits next to Daryl, taking his non-bloody hand into hers and tugging on it.

“Hey, he’s going to be okay,” Katy says, trying to get Daryl to look her in the eyes. Darry can’t bring himself to look away from Wayne, and he finds himself staring at the calluses and scars on the hand, the freckles and tanned skin from hard and honest labor. Darry wants more than anything for that hand to move at the moment, but it stays still.

“Hmm,” is all Daryl can get out in response to Katy. 

“Darry, look at me,” Katy says, grabbing Daryl’s chin and meeting his eyes. Darry immediately tears up, and he hates himself for it. 

He doesn’t want to be called soft or girly or a sally right now, but he can’t stop hearing the sickening _smack_ of the pipe hitting Wayne’s head. Can’t stop seeing Wayne’s body crumple to the ground, can’t stop remembering the feeling of pure fear, panic, and anger. Then, the feeling of that asshole degen’s face being beaten bloody by Daryl’s fist.

Dan had to pull Darry off him in the end, the degen and two of his buddies unconscious in the parking lot, the rest of them looking worse for the wear. 

Darry can’t remember anything about the drive to the hospital or anything that happened after that, really, he just knows that suddenly he’s here. He didn’t pay enough attention to what looked like an ordinary 1 on 1 between Wayne and the newest degen all-star whose name Darry never bothered to learn.

“Darry, you’re in shock, it was scary. It’s okay to be upset and worried,” Katy says, pulling him close to give him a hug. Darry does let his tears fall, then. Can’t help it. It’s like Katy opened the floodgates, and suddenly he’s curled over himself with Katy rubbing his back, and Daryl’s crying silently, his entire body shaking as he tries to get a grip on himself.

A nurse comes in with a cart, Squirrelly Dan right behind her, and Darry patiently sits there while she cleans and stitches his knuckles up, and then drapes a blanket over his shoulders. Darry hates the way it helps instantly, and he feels even worse when the nurse wheels her cart out, and then it’s just the three of them with an unconscious Wayne.

“Darry, I’ve never seen you fights like that before,” Dan says after an indeterminable amount of silence covering the room.

“Tell me about it. I’ll be surprised if those degens didn’t need to be wheeled back upcountry,” Katy says, nodding her head.

“I don’t really remember what happened,” Daryl says quietly, staring at his stitches. He’s not shaking quite so much anymore, but he can tell that he’s still not quite right because of the worried glances Katy and Dan keep giving him.

They don’t exactly get around to telling Darry what happened next, because it’s at that point that Darry sees Wayne’s hand twitch. He immediately stops listening to the conversation. Wayne suddenly sits up in bed ram-rod straight. He looks like he immediately regrets that action, and leans over the side of the bed to spit on the floor. Dan gets spooked by Wayne’s sudden movements and must jump a foot in his chair 

“Wayne!” Katy says, leaning forward to rub his back and try to maneuver him into a reclining position. Wayne resists, and it’s not until Darry realizes he’s standing and helping Katy push Wayne back gently that Wayne complies. He’s white as a sheet and sweating, but he calms when he sees Katy, Dan and Darryl are all next to him. 

“Wayne, how’re ya now?” Dan asks when it’s clear that Wayne isn’t going to initiate a conversation. All Wayne is doing is blinking rapidly at the ceiling. Darry realizes it’s probably pretty bright for him after sustaining a head injury and being sedated for a few hours. Darry reaches over to turn off the overhead lights, leaving a bit of sun peeking through the blinds and a light above Wayne’s bed that casts a dim light through the room, but isn’t too overbearing.

Wayne’s blinking slows, and he turns his head slightly to look at Darry. Wayne lifts a corner of his mouth to smile at Darry. He feels like he’s been drenched in warm water, a sudden heat fills his whole body. He releases all the tension that he was carrying in his neck and shoulders, slumping over to rest his head on the guardrail of Wayne’s bed.

“What happened?” Wayne asks, not addressing anyone in particular. He’s got his head turned slightly towards Katy and Darry, but his eyes are closed now.

“Degens,” Katy mutters angrily, and Wayne makes a face at that.

“Fuck does my head hurt,” Wayne says, trying to lift a hand to feel at where the pipe connected with his skull. The doctors said it was a miracle he only sustained a mild injury and some swelling, whacked in the head with a steel pipe ‘nd all. 

“Don’t touch, Wayne.” Darry’s hand is out and blocking Wayne from reaching all the way to his head. Wayne sees Darry’s hand and frowns, his eyebrows coming to clench together. Then he winces, his signature squint is probably pretty painful to do right now.

“Wayne, how are you feeling?” The doctor asks, walking into the room. She’s got dark hair pulled back at her neck and a kind smile on her face, and Darry’s really glad she’s using a quiet voice because he can tell that Wayne’s head is killin’ him.

“Oh, a wee bit of a headache,” Wayne drawls, his expression very deliberately blank and eyes closed.

“I’ll bet, with the whack you took. We got the wound stapled shut, and you were lucky to not have much swelling. Do you mind if I ask you some questions?” The doctor asks, coming to stand by Squirrelly Dan.

“Go right on ahead, Ma’am,” Wayne says, nodding his head and then immediately wincing.

The doctor asks him all sorts of questions, ranging from simple ones to seemingly pointless ones, but Wayne answers them all correctly. She holds her finger up and asks Wayne to grab it, and Darry almost wants to start crying again when Wayne misses her finger on the first try. The doctor doesn’t seem worried by this, but she does jot something down on her clipboard.

She makes Wayne do addition and multiplication and division. She’s patient when it takes him twice as long as usual.

“Okay, I promise I’m done poking and prodding at you for now,” The doctor says, smiling gently at Wayne, who relaxes into the bed, exhausted-looking.

“Well, it seems like you’re going to be alright, Wayne, You’re lucky there was no skull fracture. Your coordination and concentration may be off for a few days, but they should return once you rest and let time do some healing. In the meantime, no strenuous activities, no operating any machinery, and get lots of fluids and sleep. I want to see you back in a week to make sure you’re improving. I want you to call if you experience any new side effects, still have a headache after the first few days, or develop any new pains or symptoms.” She’s writing all of this down on a little paper, and she rips off the paper when she’s done, handing it to Katy.

“I’m prescribing you a painkiller for the headache and something in case you develop any nausea. The nurse will be in soon to cover a few more things, and then you can be on your way.” The doctor smiles at him and takes her leave, and then they’re all sitting in silence again.

“Guess I’ll pull the car around,” Darry says. He tries to stand, but Wayne’s hand catches Darry’s wrist and pulls him back down into his chair.

“No,” Wayne says. He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, but seems to change his mind and shuts his mouth.

“Wayne’s right, Darry. You’re still in shock. I’ll get the car warmed up, you call me when you want me to pull up to the entrance,” Katy says, holding up the keys to Wayne’s truck and her cell phone. Darry nods mutely, sitting in his seat and staring at Wayne’s hand, still holding onto Darry’s wrist.

Wayne continues to hold it until the nurse comes in to bring him his clothes.

-

The drive back is awkward and way too long. Katy drives slow and steady to avoid the bumps and potholes that Ontario’s rural roads are full of, but Wayne huffs out a little pained breath every time the truck jolts too quickly. It was a twenty-minute drive to the hospital with Katy going full tilt like a Peterbilt. Still, Darry reckons it’ll take them an hour to get back to the farm with Katy never driving faster than 40.

Darry slings his arm behind Wayne’s head, positions his arm, and gently guides Wayne’s head down to rest in the crook of his elbow. Wayne sighs and clumsily lays a hand out to pat Darry’s knee in thanks, but his coordination is clearly not up to par because his hand instead lands on Darry’s mid-thigh. 

Darry sucks in a breath and stiffens when Wayne’s fingers relax, and his fingers idly brush Darry’s inner thigh. He looks at Wayne, ready to say something, but sees his pained expression has soothed out into one of mild discomfort, which is an improvement to his previous expression.

“So, what happened?” Wayne asks, his eyes closed as he continues to use Darry as a pillow. Darry catches Katy’s eye through the mirror and can see her smirking like crazy. Dan raises an eyebrow when he turns in his seat, but moves past their position to give Wayne a recap.

“Wells Wayne, you’s was beatin’ the shits outta some degens from upcountry that’ve been hangin’ around Modean’s, and they was sayin’s the worst stuffs to sweet lil’ Bonnie McMurray, so naturally ‘ya stepped in, and one of them snuck a pipe in his jacket into the scrap and gave ‘ya’s a whack with it, sending you to the floor like a sack ‘er potatoes.”

“Fuckin’ degens fightin’ fuckin’ dirty,” Wayne mutters quietly. His hand resting on Daryl’s thigh goes tense, and Darry tries his hardest to pay it no mind because now is the absolute worst time to get a semi.

“I swear that before ‘ya even hit the grounds, Darry was there and was beatin’s the ever-loving shits out of them. It was threes against one and Darry took ’em all out before Miss Katy’s and I had even gotten ‘ya’s up and into the truck. I swear they’re gonna have to be peeled off the pavements after an ass-whoopin’ likes that.”

Wayne does open his eyes then and turns his head just slightly to look at Darry. 

Darry gulps and meets his eyes, loving so much the pale blue shade they are. They’re a little glassy, likely from the painkillers, but they’re aware for the most part. The expression on Wayne’s face is wholly unfamiliar to Darry. Wayne’s head probably hurts too much to keep his usual squinted, stoic expression. While Darry knows that he could read Wayne’s facial expressions even if he had been born deaf, he finds that he doesn’t quite know how to navigate Wayne’s face without his usual guard up.

Wayne’s hand flexes, and his fingers curve to the surface of Darry’s thigh. He gives a surprisingly strong squeeze for someone who had recently been knocked unconscious with a pipe, and mutters, “Atta boy.”

Katy looks at him knowingly through the mirror. Eventually, Darry decides he needs to close his eyes for a while.

-

It seems like he just rested his eyes, but they’re back at the farm, and he’s being gently shaken awake by Katy. Darry blinks and watches Squirrelly Dan helping Wayne up the back porch stairs.

“Come on, you’re staying here tonight,” Katy says. She walks into the house with him and immediately goes to the fridge and hands Darry a Puppers.

“Thank you, Katy,” Darry says, quietly. He’s always bashful to drop their prickly banter, but he doesn’t think he can handle it right now.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, ‘kay?” she asks, raising an eyebrow at him. She holds his gaze until he eventually nods. “You can take the guest bedroom, give me a sec to get some blankets.”

Katy leaves him to his thoughts. For an indeterminate amount of time, Darry just stands there, sipping his Puppers and staring blankly at nothing. All he can hear is the echo of metal striking Wayne’s head, the intense and sudden shock of that moment plays over and over in his gut. He just can’t stop reliving it, and he feels somewhat ashamed for how bad he beat those men, even though they deserved it for bringing a weapon and using it. Darry’s always been excellent at keeping his inner feelings and thoughts well locked down, but it’s like they were all unleashed the second Wayne got hit.

“Darry?”

Darry gasps, realizing he’d been in some kind of trance and halfway to a panic attack.

“Darry, come on, let’s get you to bed,” Katy says, slipping the beer out of his fingers. Darry follows her, and blankly sits down on the full bed in the guest room.

Katy sits down next to him, pulls him into a quick hug, pats his shoulder, and leaves the room, shutting the door quietly behind her.

Left alone, Darry moves on autopilot. He strips out of his clothes until he’s in his undershirt and long underwear and climbs under the quilts Katy has piled onto the bed. The house is old, and the heating system was probably due to be replaced a decade ago.

He watches how the moonlight filters through the window as the snow falls to the ground in thick sheets and thinks about how terrified he was today, so scared Wayne might not make it. That he’d have to put the person who centers his world in the ground. The thought of another person he loves being buried makes his body rack with shakes and shivers.

Darry isn’t sure how long he lays there before he hears his door crack open.

Darry lifts his head and then sits up when he sees Wayne in the doorway, clad in sweatpants and a soft-looking long-sleeved shirt. 

“Alright there, super chief?” Daryl asks, his voice gruffer than he thought it would be. 

Wayne gives his head the slightest shake and then seems to regret it immediately, wincing in pain. Daryl stares at Wayne, wondering what the hell it is he’s doing out of bed and in the guest room. Wayne takes a step forward and stops, seems to have some sort of internal battle, and then ambles to the other side of the bed. 

Wayne stands there for several seconds in silence, looking at Darry with such intensity he’s finding it hard to breathe.

“Wayne?” Darry asks, and at that Wayne sits down on the bed.

“Head hurts,” Wayne says quietly. Daryl winces in understanding. He avoided a concussion somehow, but that didn’t mean he doesn’t still have staples in his head or one hell of a bruise coming on soon. 

“’m sorry,” Darry says. Wayne pulls the covers on the other side of the bed back. He climbs in, his movements as jerky as always, which makes Daryl feel better and also just reminds him that _Wayne is getting into the bed with Daryl._

Wayne situates himself and then grabs Darry’s left arm, maneuvering it so that it curls around Wayne’s shoulder, and then lays down proper. Darry lets himself be moved like a doll, totally in disbelief of what’s happening.

“Wayne?” Darry whispers.

“y’re so warm,” Wayne mumbles, his eyelids closing as he slips off to sleep right before Darry’s eyes. Darry sits there for some time, staring at Wayne’s resting face and his inner elbow cradling Wayne’s neck. Daryl adjusts the pillow under Wayne’s head so that his head is supported a little better and lies back, adjusting slightly but desperately trying not to wake Wayne.

Wayne is not a quiet sleeper, Darry discovers. Nothing extreme or wild, but he makes little noises throughout the night. Hums little notes out or huffs a breath, sometimes even mutters a word or two, but mostly low sounds every now and then, and some slight shifting that Wayne seems prone to doing in his sleep. 

Daryl hates how much it endears him. He ends up sleeping on his side as he listens to these little noises Wayne makes. Daryl can fall asleep knowing that Wayne’s still here, close by, and okay.

-

When he opens his eyes, it’s brighter than all hell, and Daryl hates his life. His arm is still underneath Wayne’s neck, except that at some point in the night, they seem to have scooted closer to each other and are now pressed together from head to toe. 

Katy is standing over the bed, a smirk on her face, with two bottles of water and two bottles of pills in her hands. 

“Wayne, you need to take your medicine,” Katy says, gently shaking Wayne’s shoulder. Wayne muttered something and frowned, his eyes squinting shut.

“Light’s hurtin’ his eyes, Katy Kat,” Darry says, pointing to the window with the curtains open. Katy raised her eyebrows but got up to close the curtain. It doesn’t make the room pitch black, but it does make it a decent amount darker. The daylight in mid-winter can be incredibly harsh when it reflects off the snow.

“Thanks,” Wayne says, and then slowly sat up, his face schooling into a more neutral expression than he was able to achieve last night, which Daryl takes as a good sign. He obediently takes the pills that Katy hands him and then pokes Darry in the side until he accepts the aspirin Katy gives him.

“Fuckin’ christ, Dar’,” Wayne comments when he sees Darry’s right hand. Darry winced, the bruising wasn’t as bad yesterday. Still, his hand looks damn near shattered in the daylight, dark bruising starting from Darry’s wrist and going as far as his middle and index fingers. The stitches on his knuckles just made the whole scene just that much more grisly. Darry can tell he’s definitely going to have scars on his knuckles.

” The toughest men in Letterkenny,” Katy says softly. “Stay in bed, no chorin’ for youse today.”

“Says who?” Wayne mutters, but it’s half-hearted at best.

“Says the two feet of snow we got this morning,” Katy snarks.

“Time’ s’t?” Darry asks through a yawn.

“Half-past noon,” Katy says. Wayne groans and even Darry felt disoriented by that fact. 

“Don’t groan at me. Dan took care of the animals this morning, and I checked on the hens. Nothing to worry ’bout ‘cept gettin’ better.” Katy points to a plate on the dresser with some sandwiches on it and leaves, shutting the door behind her.

“Want me to move?” Darry asks, jostling his arm just enough so that Wayne knew what he meant.

Wayne is quiet for a few seconds and then stiltedly says, “-no.”

“‘Kay,” Darry says, laying back down. He feels tired still, and sitting up made him realize how bitterly cold it is in the room, and he’s eager to get back to the warmth under the covers. Wayne gently lays back down, too, not acknowledging that both take the time to make sure that his head is cradled comfortably in the crook of Darry’s arm.

“Got your hand pretty banged up there, eh?” Wayne asks, and Darry feels himself shiver when Wayne’s hand finds Darry’s busted one and gently pulls it out of the covers so he can get a better look.

Darry hisses when Wayne accidentally runs his finger over one of Darry’s stitched knuckles. Wayne gently holds Darry’s hand, and Darry finds that having the warmth of someone right where it hurts the most is like a drug. Darry wished at that moment that he could stay there forever.

“Didn’t mean ‘ta hurt ’em’s bad 's I did,” Darry says, looking away, feeling a bit of shame run through him for the sheer violence he displayed. Darry knows how to fight and sometimes even likes to, but he doesn’t enjoy fighting out of anger or rage, because then it becomes about anger instead of the cathartic experience that a good scrap offers.

“Were ‘ya that upset?” Wayne asks, his brows knitted together. 

Darry feels his lip tremble, and he bites down on it hard before Wayne can see. He can hear the faint echo of Wayne’s head getting hit again, and the breath that the thought punches out makes him vocalize a quiet “yes.”

Wayne doesn’t say anything back, but he gently laces his fingers through Dary’s bruised and bloodied ones. Daryl stares at the sight for a while, trying to comprehend what is happening. 

“I don’t even 'member doin’ it,” Daryl mutters. Wayne makes a quiet questioning noise, and Darry tries his hardest to clarify. However, even now, the memory is hazy and confusing.

“I heard 'yer head get hit, and I saw ‘ya drop,” Darry says, swallowing at the memory, “next thing I remember is Squirrelly Dan was pulling me off ’em and into the truck.” Darry stares at the ceiling resolutely, even when Wayne takes great effort to turn onto his side to face Darry.

“Darry,” Wayne says, kicking Darry’s leg until he looks Wayne in the eye.

“Wayne,” Darry says quietly.

Wayne pulls Darry closer by his shirt until Wayne’s head is right up next to Daryl’s, then just lays there, his face an inch or so from Darry’s.

“Wayne?” Darry asks quietly.

Wayne pushes his lips to Darry’s quickly and efficiently, like he does most things. Darry blinks, trying to process it, and then leans back in before Wayne can decide to never kiss him again.

Darry tilts his head more the second time around, and Wayne seems a little less tense, and when their lips meet again, it’s so much better, like Darry’s magnetized, and all he wants to do is hang on for the ride.

Wayne kisses him until he moves his head too far to one side, and then grunts out in pain. Darry pulls his head back instantly and guiltily rearranges them so that Wayne’s head is resting where it seems most comfortable; Darry’s arm around his shoulders and his head resting on the pillow.

Wayne makes a sound in his throat that borders on being a whine, and Darry snorts under his breath. He doesn’t move any farther away. Instead, he runs his fingertips over Wayne’s shoulder in idle patterns until they’ve both drifted back to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I worked on this instead of my thesis... and I proofread it 6 times so it all should be right but let me know if I missed something. Also, writing Squirrelly Dan's dialogue is so fucking hard?


End file.
